The Power of Sandy
by BrandSpankingNew
Summary: The boys were up to no good during "The Power of Love." It's up to Sandy to set them straight. A sequel to "Bringing Ryan Home". Warning: This is a BrandSpankingNew fic. Contains spanking and/or talk of spanking.
1. Out the Window

Seth heard the knock too late to pull himself out of the compromising position he found himself in, so instead, he pasted on his best parent-soothing grin as his father walked into his room.

He could immediately tell it was a no-go. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" his father barked, marching into his room and sending the door slamming into the frame. Seth opened his mouth, starting to make excuses.

"Well, it's just a nice night and I was going to check out the view from the roof--"

"Stop," Dad warned. "Get in here, now!"

Seth climbed back into his bedroom, watching his father's face as he did so. He didn't like what he saw. Brow furrowed, eyebrows nearly touching, teeth gritted and lips turned down, he was the epitome of fury. His stomach lurched as he saw his father's clenched hands, shaking. Oh man. He was so very screwed.

He'd already started the lie; might as well really commit to it. "My teacher said there was supposed to be some sort of cosmic thing going on tonight," Seth continued, watching Dad's face. "Shooting stars maybe, or--"

"Don't," Dad said. His hand closing around Seth's bicep shocked Seth. His hand really was shaking, so hard Seth could feel the vibrations of angry adrenaline moving through veins. His voice was an angry growl as the lecture continued. "I have had more than enough of this. I don't understand what has gotten into you lately, both of you, but I've had enough of it! Lying, ignoring the rules, deliberately flaunting them, in fact--"

"I wasn't!" Seth said. Oh sure, he knew he had been doing something that would get him in major trouble if he got caught...but it had seemed like there was no way he could get caught. Right up until his dad had walked in to see him halfway out the window, the plan had seemed foolproof. "I was just, um, well, it was more like..." He drifted off, watching his father's face contort.

"Do you know what this weekend is?" Dad asked him.

"Uh...your guys' anniversary," Seth said.

"So if you know that, then why are you doing your level best to ruin our plans?" Dad asked.

"I wasn't trying to ruin anything!" Seth said. His father didn't look convinced. He felt Dad's grip on his arm tighten. Uh oh. And the eyebrows said nothing good would come of it either.

Seth watched his father's face, wishing he could hear what he was thinking. "Haven't you ever heard that if you make a face like that, it'll stick?" Seth asked, trying for some levity. Dad did not look amused.

An unexpected yank sent Seth towards the bed. Dad released Seth's arm, walked over to the window, and shut it. Seth stood at the end of the bed, watching. There was a loud click as Dad pushed the lock into place.

Then Dad turned and faced Seth, head on. Seth swallowed convulsively. He never really thought of his dad as a scary guy, but right now...well, Seth was scared.

"I am not going to stand for this anymore," Dad said, his voice harsh. "You've been warned, we've grounded you...we tried to treat you like an adult, Seth. And you repaid us by acting like a child. If you act like a child, don't be surprised if I treat you like a child."

Seth wasn't sure where Dad was going with this, but it couldn't be anywhere good. He tried to think of the worst that could happen. Nothing immediately popped into his head. He was already grounded—what else could Dad do? It wasn't like he'd broken any laws or anything.

Dad took the few steps between them and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Sit down, Seth," he told his son, gesturing to the bed next to him. Cautiously, Seth perched on the edge of the bed, feeling both anxious and confused.

"Listen, Dad, I'm sorry," Seth said, trying to head off his father's lecture. "I know I screwed up, okay? It won't happen again."

That hadn't been the right thing to say, apparently, because Dad's temper flared. "It's not okay, Seth, and it better not happen again, do you understand me?"

"Okay! I get it, alright?" Seth was getting frustrated too. What else was he supposed to say? He couldn't undo what had already been done. "I said it wouldn't happen again. What else do you want?"

"What else do I want?" Dad said, sounding incredulous. "I _want _you to listen to your mother and me. I _want_ you to obey our rules. I _want_ you to act your age, instead of forcing me to treat you like a little boy and put you over my knees." He was practically yelling by the time he finished his tirade.

"What? What are you talking about?" Seth couldn't believe his ears. Surely he'd mis-heard. "Put me over your knees? What, are you going to spank me?" He laughed, as if to show how ridiculous that idea was.

But Dad didn't even crack a smile. "That's exactly what I'm going to do," he said in his sternest voice. He grabbed Seth's arm. Seth didn't even have a chance to pull away before he found himself tumbling ungracefully over his father's lap.

"No freaking way. You are not doing this to me!" He struggled to regain his footing, but Dad's grip held him firmly down.

Seth felt shock waves of disbelief flooding his body. No way. There was no way his dad would really—was there? He fought harder to stand, but his father had gained his muscles through battling waves out in the ocean as he surfed every morning; he was a lot stronger than he looked.

"Dad, there has to be some kind of mistake here. I mean, you aren't really—you wouldn't _really_ spank me, would you? You can't be serious?" Seth asked incredulously, his voice squeaking a little. This had to be some kind of weird scare tactic or something. Had Dad been watching Dr. Phil again?

"Serious as a heart attack." His father's reply made Seth's heart drop into his stomach.

"But Dad—I'm sixteen years old! You can't just—I mean it's—you can't—" Seth couldn't even finish his sentences. His mind couldn't keep up with what was happening.

His father's hands were firm against his back as he said, "I know how old you are, Seth."

SMACK! The first swat caught him completely by surprise. That really hurt! Seth yelped.

"Hey! You—are you out of your mind?"

SMACK! SMACK! Seth twisted defensively, trying to get out of the path of fire. His disbelief at what was happening was quickly dissolving. "No, I am not not," Dad said firmly. SMACK! "I am fully aware of what I am doing."

Seth was fully aware of it too. "Ouch! Are you fully aware—ow! That it isn't—Ow! Customary to spank—OW!" Seth threw his hand back, trying to protect his rear end. "Sixteen year olds?"

He felt his father's hand close around his wrist and pull it into the small of his back. "I am," Dad replied before swatting him again. Seth felt his body jerk. His ass was on fire.

"Well, good," Seth yelped, and his voice sounded a little shaky. "As long as you—OW!"

Seth could feel his eyes getting hot and prickly, and he could also feel his face flushing. This was humiliating, and it hurt. What would Summer think if she saw this? Seth groaned.

"Now you listen to me, Seth Ezekiel," Dad lectured. "There will be no more climbing out of windows, no more sneaking around, no more nights where you never come home."

"Okay!" Seth mumbled. He was crying now; his ass really, really hurt. "I won't. OW! I promise."

Dad stopped spanking, but continued the lecture. "I don't like treating you boys like this. But the rules we have are there for a reason. How are we supposed to know if you're safe if you just blow off curfew? If we think you're in your room, and you're out doing God knows what with God knows who, God knows where?"

"I'm sorry!" Seth was sincere. He was sorry, for a lot of reasons, the least of which being that his ass was on fire.

Dad let go of Seth's wrist, and Seth scrambled to his feet. "Please, Dad," he mumbled, staring at his feet, "I won't do it again, I swear to you." His ears were flaming nearly as badly as his behind. "Can I please just be alone now?"

He felt his father's hand land lightly on his shoulder "All right," he said. "And don't even think about going out that window."

Seth shook his head and flopped face down on his bed. No way in hell would he be climbing out that window, ever again. His butt couldn't handle the consequences. He heard the click as his father shut the door after he left.

Seth reached back with one hand and gingerly rubbed his butt. It really hurt. Who would have guessed that Sandy Cohen had hands of steel? He'd have to add a character to the comic book. Seth sniffed, and wiped off his face with his sleeve.

He'd cried. Like a baby. Over being spanked. What was he, a little kid? Why couldn't he be more like Ryan? Ryan never cried.

Thinking about his blond friend, his father's words popped back into his head. "I don't like treating you boys like this." You boys. Did that mean...no way. Unfathomable. There was no way that Kid Chino could possibly have been the recipient of this kind of painful, embarrassing treatment, especially not at the hands of Sandy Cohen. Ryan brawled like a crazy cage fighter. Dad couldn't have just pulled him down like he'd done to Seth. Could he have?

Well, Dad was stronger than he looked...maybe if he'd taken Ryan by surprise. Or, well, he knew Ryan worried about getting thrown out, even though his parents would never do that. But Ryan was a parent-pleaser; he wanted to keep the 'rents happy with him. So maybe, Ryan wouldn't have fought him.

Seth didn't want to imagine it, he really didn't, but unfortunately, he could. It wasn't even that difficult.

Oh man. Seth groaned and buried his head in his pillow.


	2. Trouble, Trouble

Sandy walked down the stairs and came face-to-face with his wife. She looked startled and more than a little unhappy.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Sandy asked, leaning in and kissing her. She shook her head.

"Ryan and Lindsay. I found Ryan and Lindsay...he was half-naked, and they were NOT studying," Kirsten said. She sounded very perturbed.

"He was half—you have got to be kidding me," Sandy said.

"I wish I were," Kirsten said. "Sandy, I don't know what to do about this. These boys are trying to drive me crazy!"

"You've only heard part of it," Sandy said, shaking his head. "I caught Seth halfway out the window."

"What?" Kirsten looked like she'd been slapped. "He was...?"

"Climbing out the window, yeah."

"What are we going to do about them?" she asked him. "I can't think of anything--"

"I can," Sandy said. "Seth's not climbing out that window anymore; I can guarantee it."

"What, did you nail the window sill closed?" Kirsten asked sardonically.

Sandy shook his head. "Don't be mad at me, honey," he started.

"Sandy," she said, cocking her head to the side. "What did you do?" Cautious disapproval was already apparent in her voice.

"Do you remember when Seth was twelve, and he stole that comic book?" Sandy asked. "How we decided that if grounding wasn't working, we'd have to do something more extreme?"

"You can't be serious..." Kirsten said, sounding shocked. "Honey, he's not a little boy anymore! Please tell me you didn't—" She stopped herself, watching Sandy nod.

"Yes, I did. Kirsten, he was climbing out the window. He was already grounded. What other punishment would we have used?"

Kirsten pursed her lips. "I don't know, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. And I'm sure Seth had a fit."

"He wasn't happy about it. But I'm sure he's not going to pull anything like that again."

He could tell Kirsten wasn't convinced. "And Ryan? What are we going to do about him?"

Sandy pressed his palms into his eyes and sighed. How bad had Ryan's offenses been?"I'm going to go talk to him." He'd figure out what else to do after that.

Kirsten was shaking her head. "You can't spank him, Sandy. He's not--"

"Don't say he's not our son, Kirsten. He is." Sandy's voice was unyielding. "I had to fight like hell to bring him home."

"I wasn't going to say that, Sandy. I _was_ going to say that he's not like Seth. Seth's been our son his entire life. He knows that we love him, that we wouldn't hurt him. Ryan...you saw what his home life was like. If you raise your hand to him--"

Sandy hadn't thought about that, not now, and not when he'd spanked Ryan before. He'd only been thinking that something had to get through to the kid, and after Ryan had pushed him, yes, he'd lost his temper. The spanking hadn't been thought out—he'd just done it.

"I'm not going to 'raise my hand to him'. A spanking is not the same thing as a beating. Ryan knows that."

"Does Ryan _really_ know that?" Kirsten asked. "I mean, are you sure of that, Sandy? That he knows you wouldn't hurt him?"

"He does," Sandy replied after a moment, nodding. He thought of the way Ryan had sagged into his hug, like a boy half his age. He hadn't been afraid of Sandy. "Anyway, I'm not so sure that what he's done merits a spanking. He's not the one I found climbing out a window." With a squeeze to Kirsten's shoulder, he turned and walked out the glass patio door.

He could feel Kirsten's worried eyes watching him all the way to the pool house.


	3. Freaking Out

Ryan sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He felt so _stupid_. The look on Kirsten's face when she'd seen them together...he groaned. She was never going to forgive him. Never.

He'd yanked his shirt back on as Lindsay had ran out the door. Too little too late, but he felt the need to atone. Lindsay was Kirsten's sister. How on earth had he thought he'd keep her status as his girlfriend a secret from the Cohens? He was an idiot.

The soft knock on the door sent his head jerking up like whiplash. "Yeah?" he said, as his heart went into double-time. He wasn't sure who he dreaded seeing more: Sandy or Kirsten. He wasn't sure he could face either one at the moment.

The door opened enough for Sandy to stick his head in. "We need to talk," he said. Ryan nodded, accepting the inevitable, and Sandy stepped through the door.

He watched Sandy take a seat in the chair across from his bed, trying to hide his trepidation with a mask-like expression.

"So. You and Lindsay?" Sandy's first words surprised Ryan. That hadn't been what he was expecting. Ryan nodded, still watching him cautiously.

"Were you planning on telling us?" Sandy asked.

Ryan shifted uncomfortably. "Um," he said. "I didn't think...I wasn't sure how."

"Because?"

"Well, Lindsay's Kirsten's sister." Ryan said. "I thought..." He stopped.

"You thought it would be too awkward," Sandy supplied. Ryan nodded.

"I didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable," he said.

"If that's what you were trying to avoid, kid, you missed completely. Walking in on you and Lindsay was about as awkward and uncomfortable as it gets," Sandy said bluntly. "Although, on the upside, I bet that Kirsten will learn how to knock." He softened his words with a quirk of his lips.

Ryan hung his head, feeling a blush creep up his neck. "I'll apologize," he mumbled.

"You know, the relationship between you and Lindsay isn't really the problem here, Ryan," Sandy said, becoming serious again. "You were—are—grounded. Kirsten let her come in because she was told you two would be studying."

Ryan sunk further down into his seat. Here it comes, he thought.

"Not making out on your bed. Truly, Ryan, that's unacceptable. For a lot of reasons. Do you even have protection?" Sandy demanded.

The blush that had been making its way up his neck now encompassed his entire head, including his ears. "Sandy," he protested weakly.

"It's a serious question, kid." But Sandy moved onto another tack. "And you have been behaving in a way that is sneaky and underhanded and completely unacceptable as of late. Lying, missing curfew, skipping class—any of this ringing a bell?"

Ryan wished he could sink through the floor and disappear. He could feel Sandy's eyes boring a hole through him. Reluctantly, he nodded.

"Why?" Sandy asked.

Ryan didn't have an answer to that, at least, not a good one. He settled for a shrug.

"This weekend is your mother and my anniversary," Sandy said. "Why, on this weekend, of all the possible weekends, does everything have to go wrong?"

Ryan heard Sandy's slip of the tongue. Your mother and my anniversary, he'd said. It simultaneously brought up good and terrible feelings. Good, because Sandy was talking to him like Ryan was really his son. And terrible, because he and Seth had truly messed up their anniversary. "I'm sorry," Ryan said. It was barely more than a whisper.

"An 'I'm sorry' doesn't fix everything, Ryan," Sandy said sternly.

Ryan nodded, and slowly forced himself to his feet, as his heart started to thump against his sternum. He'd screwed up; it was up to him to take the consequences. No matter how painful.

Even with his head ducked, he could feel Sandy watching him as he made his way over to the chair where his foster-father sat. Those few steps felt like they took forever. He stood at Sandy's side and felt his body shake.

"Ryan?" Sandy queried, looking up at him. Their eyes met for a moment, before Ryan looked away.

Ryan took a deep breath to steel himself, and then reached one hand across Sandy's body, bracing it on the arm of the chair. He lowered himself down before he lost his nerve.

He was acutely aware of Sandy's legs under his hips and stomach, of his knees not quite touching the ground, his arms dangling down stupidly, his weight supported on hands and toes. The fierce blush was back, coexisting with his heart-pounding nerves. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Ryan—"

Ryan cut him off. "Just do it," he spit out roughly. "I know 'I'm sorry' isn't enough, so just get it over with!" The tension in his body was painful.

Sandy's left hand settled lightly on his back. "Ryan, are you asking for a spanking?" he asked incredulously.

Ryan swallowed. "I messed up," he muttered. "I have to take the consequences."

He jerked with surprise when instead of landing harshly on his butt, Sandy's hand lightly circled his arm. "Stand up," Sandy said.

Ryan didn't move. Sandy's voice softened. "Come on, son. Stand up." A tug on his arm accompanied his words, helping to propel him upwards.

As he stood in front of Sandy, Ryan felt confusion and a touch of fear mix in with his other emotions. Had he done something else wrong? A forgotten memory of a childhood spanking flashed through his mind, robbing Ryan of breath. Oh God. He'd really screwed up. Was this worse than last time? Sandy wouldn't make him pull down his pants like his dad had, would he? He tried to swallow, even though his mouth was as dry as the Sahara.

"What?" he asked through his dehydrated lips. He suddenly felt like that little boy again, completely defenseless. _Please, not that. I'll be good._ The childish phrases circled in his head. He wrapped his arms protectively around his torso.

He watched Sandy's eyes flick over him, pausing at his stomach where he embraced himself, and again on his face. What was Sandy seeing? "Sandy," Ryan pleaded softly. He wasn't sure what to say.

Suddenly, Sandy beckoned at him. "Come here, kid," he said. His voice wasn't stern, but Ryan still felt the fear in the pit of his stomach. _Not my pants_, he thought. _Please. Please. I'll be good. _

Sandy's gaze was undecipherable. After a long moment, he asked,"Do you think you deserve a spanking, Ryan?"

Well, that certainly hadn't been what he was expecting to hear. "Is that a trick question?" Ryan asked cautiously.

Sandy stood, shaking his head.

"Do you think that what you've done is bad enough that you deserve to be spanked for it?" Sandy repeated, reaching out his hands and putting them on Ryan's shoulders. His grip was firm, but not too tight. "Do you think that's necessary? Have you done something reckless? If I don't spank you, are you going to think it's no big deal to do something stupid? To continue this sort of behavior?"

Ryan shook his head mutely. Of course not. He hadn't felt so guilty about what he'd done in a long time.

"I didn't think so." Sandy's blue eyes were intense. "When I said that 'I'm sorry' wasn't enough, I didn't mean that I was planning on spanking you, Ryan," he said quietly.

Ryan watched him cautiously, not sure if he should believe him or not. "What did you mean, then?" he asked around a thick, dry tongue.

"I suppose that I meant that you would need to back it up with actions. Stop the crap, and start obeying the rules." Sandy raised his eyebrows. "Maybe help me fix the problem you've caused for Kirsten and me regarding our anniversary."

Ryan nodded: two sharp dips of his head. "Of course," he said, finally daring to breathe again. "Of course I will. I never meant..." He trailed off. "I really am sorry."

Sandy patted his shoulder. "Okay. I don't think a spanking is going to teach you anything, then."

Ryan nearly sagged with relief. "So, what can I do to help fix this?" he asked, feeling like a sixteen year old again.

Sandy smiled. "Talk to Seth," he said. "I'll bet you boys will figure something out."


	4. Making Amends

Ryan woke up slowly, feeling the sheets over him. Something was different. What was going on?

He checked his watch once, then again. Seth hadn't woken him up? He checked his phone, but there were no missed calls. Huh. Since when could he just sleep in without Seth popping in, his mouth moving a mile a minute, hair-brained ideas popping out left and right?

Ryan gave a mental shrug. Whatever.

He got dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and a wife-beater before heading out to the kitchen. No Seth there either. Ryan furrowed his brows for a moment, then snagged a handful of cereal straight from the box and started up the stairs.

He paused outside of Seth's door, listening. He could hear the faintest strains of music coming from inside—The Subways, he thought, although he was never quite sure with Seth. He knocked, two soft raps.

"I'm still here," he heard Seth call through the door. "I swear, I'm never going to climb out that window again."

"Huh?" Ryan said, poking his head into Seth's room. "Climb out the window?"

"Shh!" Seth jumped up from the bed where he'd been lying on his stomach and grabbed Ryan's arm, pulling him into the bedroom. He shut the door quickly. "Don't be saying that so loud!"

"Saying what?" Ryan asked.

Seth shot a glance towards the door. "Anything suggesting that I would possibly be considering climbing out of the window. Or leaving this room. Or doing anything more strenuous than quiet breathing."

Ryan wrinkled his forehead. "Uh, why?" he asked.

"Why? Because the Sandy can be a dangerous man. Do not be fooled by his caterpillar eyebrows, my friend. He has hands of steel."

The wrinkles were not going away. "What are you talking about, Seth?" Ryan asked, seating himself on the bed. Now it was Seth's eyebrows that rose.

"So...I'll take it that you did not experience the scary dad version of Sandy Cohen last night?" Seth asked, staring pointedly at Ryan.

"You've lost me, Seth. Try English," Ryan suggested.

"Did Dad come have a 'conversation' with you last night?" Seth asked. The emphasis he put on the word 'conversation' seemed unnecessary to Ryan, but he nodded.

"Uh, yeah," Ryan replied. "So?"

"So? Well, he had one with me too," Seth said. "About how I'd better not be climbing out windows, lying, blowing off curfew--"

"Wait a second, you really climbed out a window?" Ryan couldn't picture his un-athletic friend doing any such thing.

"Yes. And Dad caught me, halfway out. But that's not the point, exactly. The point," Seth continued, taking a deep breath, "is that Dad's evil twin came out then, and he, uh...oh man. You better not laugh at me. Ryan? Promise you won't laugh."

"I promise," Ryan said impatiently.

"He, uh..." Seth sighed and dropped his chin to his chest. "Hekindofspankedme."

"What?" Ryan said. He hadn't caught Seth's words through his mumble.

"He spanked me, alright?" Seth said, looking at Ryan with a glare. "Like a little kid. All right? Go ahead and laugh."

Ryan's eyes popped wide open.

"See? I knew you'd laugh," Seth said. He turned to the side to avoid Ryan's eyes.

"I'm not laughing," Ryan said, and indeed, his tone was somber. "That really sucks."

Seth glanced over at Ryan. "Yeah, it does. My ass still hurts!"

Ryan nodded, remembering how sore his own butt had been. "It'll be better tomorrow," he said.

"How would you know?" Seth grumbled belligerently. "Dad didn't spank you." His tone was sour.

"Oh yeah?" Ryan said. "I didn't exactly come home by my own free will. How the hell do you think he got me to stay? I wasn't exactly eager to go for a round two."

Seth blinked at Ryan a few times. "He...he spanked you?" Seth's voice went high with disbelief. "Like...like, pulled you across his lap like a little kid and just..." Seth made a violent hand motion. Ryan nodded, feeling warmth start to creep up his neck, coloring his skin.

Seth shook his head disbelievingly. "No. I can't believe it. How would Dad...I mean...you're a lot stronger than me, Ryan."

"Yeah, well, Sandy's pretty damn strong for a lawyer," Ryan said, looking down to hide his rapidly reddening cheeks. "And I tripped." He left out the finer details. Like the fact that he'd shoved Sandy so hard he'd nearly knocked him over.

Seth stood there blinking. Ryan sighed.

"Listen, Seth, that's not the point, okay? When Sandy was talking to you last night, did he mention that it's their anniversary this weekend?"

"Yeah," Seth said. "Why?"

"Well," Ryan said. "I was thinking we could maybe atone. You know, like adults?" His tone was only slightly sardonic.

Seth raised one eyebrow. "Speak on, my brother in pain," he said. "Speak on."

Epilogue

They stood in the crowd in front of the stage, watching Sandy work the mike. His voice, Ryan had to admit, was pretty damn good.

"So?" Ryan asked, leaning over to talk into Seth's ear. "Think we did okay?"

Seth snorted. "Yeah, I think so. Anyway, listening to Dad sing 'Grease Lightning' should be enough atonement for a saint."

"Yeah, but what about for a pair of sinners like us?" Ryan asked.

He caught Kirsten smiling at them. "I think it's good enough, boys," she said. "I think it's good enough."


End file.
